


Friday, 4pm: Gay Sex and Demodogs

by peterqpan



Series: Harringrove Works [16]
Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: ACTUAL SEXYTIMES, As stated on the tin, Billy Hargrove: Bewildered and furious, Billy finds out about the Upside-Down, Canon-Typical Violence, FebuWhump2021, M/M, Steve: please just shut up I s2g
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-03
Updated: 2021-02-03
Packaged: 2021-03-15 05:15:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29183859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peterqpan/pseuds/peterqpan
Summary: Steve doesn't know how to explain about the demodogs to someone who's never seen them--that they have to stay still, and quiet, or they could die--and he has no idea how to explain it toBilly Hargrove, of all people.The last thing he expects is Billykissinghim.Febuwhump day 3:  Imprisonment
Relationships: Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington
Series: Harringrove Works [16]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1624003
Comments: 45
Kudos: 149
Collections: febuwhump 2021





	Friday, 4pm: Gay Sex and Demodogs

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Particularly_Good_Finder](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Particularly_Good_Finder/gifts).



> SO SORRY all y'all ace followers, I both forgot to do my usual horizontal line, and then when I went back to do it, it--it's the whole story?! There's like a bit at the beginning and at the end? Three sex scenes and some conversation/fighting inbetween. Brace yourselves or go read a different one, sorry! <3 <3 <3

The hair all stood up on the back of Steve’s neck as he rummaged in his locker, and he whipped around at the sound of cement _ cracking  _ to see the lights off at the end of the hallway. He left his locker open, backing away, then turned and jogged in the other direction, glancing down corridors and in classrooms for anyone else. 

The first person he found was a woman he didn’t recognize as a teacher, not that it was easy to _ tell,  _ with the lights flickering like crazy, over the sound of shearing metal behind him. When he ran up and tried to turn her away from walking _ towards  _ the noises, she smacked his hand away with a _ gun,  _ hissing. The lights sparked and _ burst  _ in the hallway they were _ in,  _ so he kept running past another shadowy shape with a gun. 

The next _ normal human  _ he ran into was Billy Hargrove. 

Billy was leaning against his locker, his back to Steve. He stiffened his shoulders at the sound of Steve’s sneakers pounding up behind him. As Steve grabbed his shoulder, Billy swung around and jerked his chin up, opening his mouth to be an asshole. 

Steve could smell the weird, metallic smell of the Upside-Down, and hear the freaky trilling of the demodogs, so he just grabbed the sleeve of Billy’s denim jacket and yanked him along. Billy jerked away, and Steve said “Come _ on,  _ shithead,” and grabbed him around the shoulders, shoving him forward.

“What the _ fuck,  _ Harrington,” Billy yelled, their shoes squeaking against the linoleum as he planted his feet, and then, _ “Harrington!”  _ and _ “Are you fucking deaf.” _

Steve ignored him, cursing his luck that _ Billy Hargrove  _ hadn’t left school.

They didn’t run into anyone else.

They were just passing Chemistry when the lights went out _ ahead,  _ and Steve saw motion, down low, too low and long to be a person. The doors thudded and creaked as Steve shoved Billy back against them, holding him there with his forearm like a bar against Billy’s chest.

“The _ fuck—”  _ Billy hissed, and Steve _ ssh- _ ed him, pressing his thumb to Billy’s mouth, leaning away to see around the lockers. He tuned his whole _ body  _ to listen for demodogs like a radio antennae, grateful in the back of his mind that Billy was keeping _ still,  _ instead of fighting him. All he could see was darkness, and the flickering light above them, when Billy pushed the door open into the chemistry classroom and drug him inside.

“You trying to get your own back, your majesty,” he asked roughly, pulling Steve close again as he tried to look around the room in the dim, cloud-filtered afternoon light of the windows. 

Steve grabbed one of the heavy lab tables and yanked on it. “Get the other side,” he hissed, and Billy _ did,  _ helping him shove it against the door. He slid a shaking hand up Steve’s arm, and Steve took a deep breath of relief that he didn’t need to _ explain,  _ and stalked away to check the other door. He couldn’t tell whether it was locked, so he shoved a table against that one too, and turned around to see Billy taking slow breaths into his steepled hands. 

He jerked back as Steve stepped closer, then grabbed at Steve’s shirt and yanked him _ in,  _ so close they were breathing each other’s air—like the goddamn weirdo he was—and Steve groaned inwardly again that out of all the people he could be locked in a room with, it _ would  _ be Billy Hargrove.

_ Just my luck,  _ Steve thought, rolling his eyes, and Billy cleared his throat, his hands tightening on Steve’s biceps. 

“...nobody’s gonna find us now,” Billy laughed, his eyes fixed on Steve’s mouth, and Steve felt a little more sympathy for Billy Hargrove than he had in a while, feeling him tremble. 

“Look, you’ll be—” Steve started to say, reassuringly, but Billy Hargrove _ kissed  _ him, a full-body, urgent kiss like Steve had always been afraid to _ give.  _ Billy’s fingers dug into his shoulder, yanking him close, his lips opened where Billy’s thumb pressed against his mouth, and Billy’s _ tongue  _ slipped in, hot and surprisingly gentle.

Steve froze, forgetting the monsters outside as Billy’s whole, hard body pressed against his, shoving him back against the tables. Billy’s nails scraped Steve’s back through his shirt as his arms held Steve so tight it hurt. 

Billy was shaking. His kisses were breathy—he had a—it was almost a _ whine  _ in the back of his throat Steve couldn’t help chasing, and Billy laughed incredulously, as though he hadn’t been the one to grab Steve in the first place, and kiss him like _ Steve Harrington  _ was his only source of oxygen. 

“T-take what you want,” he whispered, biting his lip. His lips were already getting pink from rough kissing, and Steve wondered, vaguely, whether Billy wished Steve had shaved more carefully that morning. Billy’s skin was soft, except for the roughness of his mustache. “You want me on the floor or over a table,” he asked, laughing unsteadily. His eyes were red.

“What,” Steve asked, the only word he could form, half listening in case their quiet voices brought demodogs to the door. 

“Or on my knees,” Billy whispered, his nails digging into the skin under Steve’s shoulder blades. His eyes were steady, watching Steve’s. “Teach me a lesson.”

“Jesus,” Steve whispered back, trying to figure out how to explain there were _ monsters,  _ it wasn’t some—weird power...sex...game. Billy licked his lips, watching Steve’s mouth, and then flicked a glance up at Steve’s eyes, and grinned crookedly. 

“You caught me,” he laughed, his eyes reddening. “Fucking...queer. What now.”

“Wait,” Steve whispered, as Billy shook his head, and kissed him again, shoving Steve and the heavy table he was braced against a few inches across the floor with the sound of metal squeaking against linoleum. “Sssh!” Steve hissed, turning Billy away from the table, and pulling him into the free space at the front of the room. 

“Are you fucking me,” Billy asked, his eyes fixed on Steve’s hand in his. “Get some back for me kicking your ass.”

“That’s not—” Steve started, but Billy wasn’t listening, he stepped in and kissed Steve again, closing his eyes, and giving a little pained grunt as Steve opened his mouth willingly.

“Come on,” Billy panted, swallowing. “You got this over me, now. Nobody’ll believe me. You can take it out of my hide.”

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Steve said, to be clear, and Billy frowned, jerking back.

“...the hell are we doing in here, then,” he asked roughly, frowning at the doors. “Come _ on.” _

“Billy—”

“Don’t be a _ pussy,  _ Harrington, you gonna fuck my face or my ass, huh? Don’t pretend you don’t…” Billy stepped close again, sliding his fingers under the waistband of Steve’s jeans, and Steve grabbed his hand.

“Holy _ crap.”  _ Steve breathed, as Billy tried to yank away.

“You just want me to admit it, then,” Billy asked roughly, shoving Steve back hard enough he stumbled. “Fine, you _ fuck,  _ I’m a fag. What now?! You got me alone in here. You—you gonna _ show me my place,  _ huh? You—you gonna beat my head in—” he stepped forward, wiping his eyes, and Steve stepped back and around the teacher’s desk, recognizing the helpless fury on Billy’s face. 

Billy tried to catch him a few times, circling the desk, then grabbed the apple paperweight and hefted it to throw. As the grey light caught his face, Steve could see tears streaking it. “Billy, you gotta shut up,” he hissed.

“Why the hell did you bring me _ in here,”  _ Billy yelled. “The fuck do you _ want,”  _ and Steve stopped, holding his hands up. 

“Okay,” he tried, “—come here. Billy.”

Billy stepped back, his shoulders lifting, then laughed, swallowing visibly. “What are you doing,” he asked flatly.

“Come here,” Steve told him, stepping around the desk towards him, and Billy took a step backwards again, then stopped, holding himself stiffly. “Billy,” Steve whispered, approaching slowly, like Billy Hargrove was an injured, snarling dog. “Give me that,” he said, taking Billy’s hand, and pulling Billy’s unresisting fingers from around the paperweight. Billy twitched when Steve took it, but Steve just put it back on the desk. 

“What do you want,” Billy asked, unsteadily, as Steve turned back to him. “What are you gonna do with me?”

It didn’t seem like the time to try and explain the demodogs—so much for Billy having _ seen  _ one, and cooperating like—like a person who made _ sense,  _ Steve thought. He tried to think of what to say to keep Billy _ quiet,  _ and finally held his hands out, flat.

“You wanna make out,” he asked softly, and Billy laughed, his voice cracking loud in the quiet, so Steve yanked him close again, and sealed his mouth with another kiss. 

He’d never dated anyone who acted like the best thing in the world was getting _ closer to Steve Harrington,  _ and he relaxed into it as Billy wrapped around him again, his fingers painfully tight. Steve’d also never had his ass squeezed so enthusiastically his _ crotch  _ rubbed all up on the person he was necking, and he almost apologized--but Billy groaned, gripping him tighter.

It was _ hot  _ in the chemistry lab, stuffy from the wall of windows, and suddenly Steve was _ sweating,  _ his skin tingling and burning with the heat of Billy’s open-mouthed kisses.

Billy explored him like it was a once-in-a-lifetime chance, running his thumb along Steve’s jaw and down his neck, then over his ear and thorough his hair, all fast and clumsy like he had to check as much as possible. He buried his face in Steve’s neck and breathed, and then his hair, and Steve tried not to giggle. 

“I got nowhere to be,” he whispered, and Billy snorted a laugh, leaving hot, sloppy kisses down the side of Steve’s neck from his ear to his collarbone. Steve groaned, relaxing into it, and Billy’s hands twitched.

“You should fuck me, then,” he whispered back, laughing a little and looking away, like he wanted to be able to say it was a joke. 

Steve licked his lips, considering the idea of boning the violent gay kid who’d nearly beaten his head in, to keep him from yelling, to protect them both from getting eaten by monsters. He couldn’t quite wrap his head around it, and he licked his lips, wondering how to reply.

“...screw you, Harrington,” Billy sighed, and Steve snorted.

“Yeah, you wish.”

Billy laughed aloud at that, fiddling with the hem of Steve’s polo shirt, and Steve slid his hand down his own ribs and lifted his shirt a few inches, so Billy’s chilly hand was against skin. Billy took a sharp breath, scanning his face, and Steve grinned, panting, so Billy bit his lip, sliding his hands up under Steve’s shirt. He lifted it to press more kisses to Steve’s belly, and then up over his ribs to his sternum and chest. Billy leaned there, breathing, like Steve could _ possibly  _ smell good after a whole day of school, and Steve’s face _ flamed,  _ feeling his blood pound in his chest against Billy’s lips. 

“...Harrington,” he whispered, and Steve leaned to kiss his head, running his fingers through Billy’s warm hair. Billy’s fingers clenched in the skin of his back, and Steve realized he was gonna have marks like he’d been screwing a woman with long nails. 

He snickered, nervous. “I’m gonna be all over scratches and hickies,” he said, when Billy glared up. 

Billy licked his lips, watching Steve’s mouth. Steve pulled Billy back upright to kiss him again, relishing the shaky breath every time their lips connected, and Billy’s immediate attempt to squirm under Steve’s _ skin,  _ wrapping both arms around Steve’s torso, and throwing a leg around Steve’s butt. 

Steve staggered, remembered the squeak of the table, and pulled Billy down right there on the ground. Billy rolled on top of him, licking into his mouth, and Steve lost himself for a few seconds under the warm weight, the taste of cigarettes and—weirdly—tequila, and Billy’s still-trembling hands stroking over his face and head. 

The chemistry lab looked like a different place with the lights out, like the creepy Upside-Down of Steve’s normal life, and he barely noticed how hard the dirty linoleum was under his back. He grunted, squirming as Billy’s hard-on squished his in his jeans, and his dick gave absolutely no shits that it was _ Billy Hargrove  _ on top of him.

“Fuck me,” Billy whispered. “I’ll make it good, I swear. It’ll be good. Harrington,” he trailed off, his breath shaky, and Steve swallowed, shaking his head to clear it. He pushed Billy’s face up enough to look at his face, squishing his stubbly cheeks and squinting to see Billy’s blue eyes, grey-green in the dim classroom. 

“...not to make us...even,” Steve said, frowning up as he panted. “Just—”

Billy nodded, taking a shaky breath. “Yeah. Yeah. Jesus. Lemme—lemme go—” he staggered getting to his feet, wincing as his fingers brushed the hard lump in his jeans. 

Steve started to unzip, then realized Billy was heading for the door. He reached for the table blocking it, and Steve scrambled to his feet, grabbing Billy’s arm. “Where you going,” he whispered.

“I—I gotta—bathroom,” Billy hissed, letting himself be tugged closer, and nuzzling his face into Steve’s shoulder to take a deep breath.

“Don’t leave,” Steve told him, and Billy pulled back, frowning.

“I’ll be right back,” he whispered, and Steve shook his head, leaning in to kiss Billy’s kiss-swollen lips, to soften his words.

“Don’t leave this room,” he whispered back, rubbing his hands up and down Billy’s upper arms. “Don’t go outside.”

“Why,” Billy asked, flicking a glance at the door, and Steve had _ no  _ idea how to explain the monsters _ now,  _ so he just kissed him again, slowly, until Billy slumped against him again. 

“Stay with me,” Steve whispered, and Billy nodded, licking his lips, and then bumping his nose into Steve’s gently as he leaned in for another kiss.

“Yeah,” he nodded. “Yeah, anything, anything you want.”

_ Anything  _ thrilled up Steve’s spine, and he laughed, trying, impossibly, to pull Billy _ closer.  _

“I—I’ll use the sink over there, then,” Billy said hoarsely. “Don’t look.”

“Okay,” Steve said, then impulsively added, “—gorgeous,” and Billy gave a startled snort, his fingers lingering on Steve’s skin as he pulled away.

Billy busying himself by the sink was fine with Steve, who made the chilling discovery that while they’d been sucking face, the table against the door had been shoved three inches inward. He imagined the slow pressure of a veiny, hairless shoulder pressed against the door and shuddered, pushing it flush against the door again. He pulled another table over against the first to hold the line, under cover of Billy’s running water noise, and then scoped out the room. The blowtorch was an obvious find, and he sat it close to the door.

The metal stands for holding glassware in the air were heavy, and long enough, maybe, he thought, swinging one around, and he sat it on one of the tables braced against the door. The stools were tall, and solidly metal, so he put a couple of those handy too, and a few cans of Coke he found in the teacher’s desk, figuring they were heavy enough to throw through an open door. Better than nothing. He walked around the wall, ignoring whatever Billy was doing—he’d smelled _ fine,  _ Steve thought, rolling his eyes. 

His gaze fell on the cupboard of chemicals—hydrochloric acid looked back at him, and he raised his eyebrows thoughtfully, then remembered he was checking the other _ door,  _ and paced around to it. It hadn’t budged, but he pulled another table over anyway, and sat some empty test tubes around, so if it got shoved, they’d roll and make a noise falling.

“You want me on hands and knees, right,” Billy asked, his eyes entirely on Steve’s, and not on the suspicious _ barricade  _ Steve was building. Steve walked over and slid his arms around him, wondering some that it was already comfortable, having his arms around Billy Hargrove.

Billy grunted into his kiss, startled, then put his arms around Steve again, too tight, like he thought he had to grab hard at things he wanted. He licked into Steve’s mouth again, and Steve completely forgot what they were doing. “...how you want me,” Billy asked again, nearly vibrating with tension. “Facing away, right.”

“Mmmn,” Steve considered, his ribs hurting with the pressure, but his everything else relaxing into it. He kissed Billy’s tense jaw, then under it, and Billy huffed. 

“Harrington,” he hissed, bucking their hips together. 

“Which way you want it?” Steve asked, and Billy took a shaky breath, hugging him even _ tighter,  _ so Steve’s face thunked against Billy’s jaw. 

“Why’re you—” Billy started hoarsely, then laughed, digging his nails in again. “I don’t care. I don’t care, just fuck me, _ jesus—” _

Steve pushed his hands between them to undo Billy’s jeans, and Billy went from ordering him to _ begging  _ him as Steve got his fingers around the hot, familiar shape of Billy’s dick. 

“Anything you want,” Billy whispered, “—anything, anything you want from me—” Steve contemplated pushing Billy over the desk, and dismissed it, remembering the screech the table had made, shoved across the floor. “Tell me what you want,” Billy moaned in his ear, his hips jerking so his cock shoved against Steve’s fingers. 

It was a little like having his hand fall asleep, Steve thought, like feeling the familiar shape of a cock with no sensation that it was _ his.  _ He wrapped his hand around Billy’s dick, yanking the way _ he  _ liked it, and Billy gave a strangled moan, grabbing at his shoulders.

“Get down on the ground,” Steve whispered, and Billy shuddered, dropping to his knees. He curled into Steve’s shoulder when Steve crouched next to him, and Steve slid his hand along Billy’s cock again, rubbing his thumb through the drips, fascinated with his shuddery breaths. “You want to wrap yourself around me the whole time,” Steve guessed, and Billy snorted, but didn’t argue, leaning back on the floor easily as Steve pushed him around. 

They ended up under the blackboard, next to a motivational poster that read ‘Genius is 1% inspiration, 99% perspiration’, and Steve stared at it for a long second and started _ giggling.  _ Billy growled, but Steve pointed at it, wheezing helplessly, and Billy relaxed, leaning close for another kiss. “Let’s make some genius,” he whispered, and Steve laughed _ harder. _

Billy yanked his shoes and jeans off as Steve undid his own, lying back on his elbows until Steve shoved his jeans and Fruit-of-the-Looms down his thighs. Billy flapped a hand out. “Lemme suck you first, jesus,” he whispered. Steve blinked, his giggles gone as Billy Hargrove crawled closer to bury his face in Steve’s crotch, breathing deeply, and then sank Steve’s whole cock between his lips, choking and drooling. 

Steve’s whole brain flickered off and on, like the lights in the corridors, and he bit back a groan, grabbing Billy’s hair and thrusting a couple times in his mouth before he came to himself and yanked his hands back, mumbling apologies. 

Billy pulled off, coughing and gagging, and Steve rubbed his back, grimacing. “Sorry, sorry, shit,” he whispered. “That was shitty, I’m sorry, fuck—”

“You can fuck my face if you want to,” Billy said hoarsely. “I’m sturdy—”

“What kind of asshole d’you think I am,” Steve muttered, mostly to himself, and Billy laughed, burying his face between Steve’s cock and his thigh again.

“You got hard for me,” he whispered, hugging Steve’s naked butt, and Steve stroked his hair, wondering whether the slow breaths were Billy being a gross freak of nature, or whether he was trying not to flip his shit. 

“Come on,” Steve told him, softly, huffing a laugh. “Didn’t you want me to fuck you?”

“Jesus,” Billy muttered, letting Steve push him onto his back again. “Condom,” he said, holding one up, and Steve blinked at it, mostly familiar with them to keep _ girls  _ from getting _ pregnant.  _ He shrugged, and yanked it open, sliding it down over his cock with a soft groan.

Billy scrambled over to a pump bottle next to the desk on the floor, and Steve recognized it as the lotion that sat next to the handwashing station. Billy pumped a few squirts into his hand, and held it out to Steve, his eyes wary, so Steve scooted closer, feeling like an idiot as his dick bounced back and forth with the motion. 

“Jesus,” Billy muttered again, slicking Steve up, and then holding his hairy, muscled legs apart. “...you can just go for it,” he said tensely, his skin cool and a little clammy, trembling as Steve knelt between his thighs. “I can take it.”

He’d undone his cuffs, pushing them up his arms, and Steve registered _ bruises  _ on his forearms. Not like he’d bumped something, more like he’d held his arms up to protect his face, and Steve thought about that for a long second. He shifted his hand from gripping Billy’s leg to smoothing down it.

“Go _ on  _ already,” Billy hissed.

Steve bit his lips together, eyeing the little puckered pink hole, shiny with lotion, but _ small  _ looking, and then looked at Billy’s face. He had it turned aside, his jaw locked, and his eyes closed. Steve frowned harder, and ran his thumb over Billy’s asshole, then blinked as he jerked and moaned.

“...okay,” Steve said, nodding. He could feel his heartbeat through his whole body. The air on his skin felt good, and he took a steadying breath. “...I’ll—I’ll go slow.”

“You don’t have to _ —unh,”  _ Billy grunted, as Steve’s dick bumped against him. Billy let himself fall back flat against the floor, wrapping his legs around Steve’s waist. “Pound me,” he whispered, and Steve squinted at him, then shook his head, reminding himself—nearly chanting in his head—to be careful, to go slow. 

“Nope,” he said, trying to keep track of any words at all as he aimed his dick, and pushed into Billy’s tight heat. “M’—m’goin’ slow.”

“S’fine—ah,” Billy twitched, clenching his eyes shut, and Steve stopped, watching him. Steve ran his hands over Billy’s thighs, soothing himself more than Billy, he was pretty sure, but Billy didn’t swear at him again, so Steve waited until he relaxed to push a little further. He scootched his knees under Billy’s butt, nearly bending him in _ half  _ as Steve leaned until he was seated fully, his balls against Billy’s butt, and Billy was taking shaky, shallow breaths and staring at the ceiling, tears rolling out of his eyes into his ears.

“D’you want me to pull out,” Steve asked, and Billy shook his head, squeezing his legs tighter around Steve’s waist. “Maybe I should ask you for a tongue twister,” Steve rambled aloud, leaning in to brush tears off Billy’s cheek. “You--you can, um, lie, you keep saying it’s _ fine,”  _ Steve panted, “--but--but I bet you can’t say a _ tongue twister.”  _

“Shut up,” Billy snorted, groaning as he shifted against the floor. His hair pooled around his head.

Billy felt _ so good  _ Steve was almost content to just _ stay  _ there, unmoving inside him, if the thought of how incredible it had felt pushing _ in  _ wasn’t tempting his hips into thrusting all on their own. Steve took another deep breath in, and blew out, and held still. 

“O-okay,” Billy whispered. “Move. _ Move.”  _

“Mmmn,” Steve acknowledged, and slowly lifted his hips, pulling out as Billy clamped down around him, and moaned. “Ready?” Steve asked, and Billy growled and clenched his nails in Steve’s shoulders again, bucking his hips up from the ground, so Steve took that as a definite yes and let his hips do what his whole body wanted. 

It was so good. Billy squirmed and grunted under him, his nails scraping Steve’s back, and Steve pounded into him until the whole classroom filled with the sound of wet slaps. “God it’s good,” he whispered, “—you’re so, so good,” and Billy made a broken noise in the back of his throat, holding him ever closer. 

Steve came with a soft cry, and heard one of the test tubes shatter on the floor. He froze, listening, and then pulled out, yanking the condom off, as he scrambled to his feet. He tossed it in the trash, and jerked his pants up as he ran for the back door, where the table was pushed nearly a foot away from the door. He shoved it back to, then climbed up to peer through the wire gridded glass into the darkness of the hallway outside. 

He couldn’t see anything, so he jumped back down, walked over, and used the closest stool to break the glass of the chemical cabinet. He took out the three bottles of hydrochloric acid, and sat it on the counter, squinting into the depths to see if there was anything else useful. Sweat stung his eyes, and he wiped it away, looking back to see Billy curled on his side, jacking off. He lay on the ground, his head lifted to watch Steve, and came in his hand as Steve walked back towards him.

Billy pushed himself shakily upright, and staggered. “Guess you’re done with me,” he laughed, smirking, but he didn’t look up. “I—I should go, huh. Get—get out of your hair.”

“No,” Steve said quickly, going over to pull him close again, ignoring the mess on Billy’s fingers and stomach. “Sorry I—that was shitty, jesus, I’m sorry.”

“Got what you wanted,” Billy shrugged, his hand gripping Steve’s shirt again, and Steve pulled him into a deep kiss, feeling him more than hearing him moan. 

“Don’t leave,” Steve whispered, watching Billy frown at the double layer of tables holding the door shut. “We could try it the other way,” he offered, grimacing, but Billy laughed disbelievingly, and kissed him again. 

“You wanna fuck me on hands and knees now?” he asked, smiling a little, and when Steve nodded, sighing with relief, Billy curled into his shoulder, sliding his arms around Steve’s waist. “What is happening,” he whispered, his face nestled against Steve’s neck. He sounded soft and happy, and Steve felt a guilty twinge in his stomach.

“What were you doing?” Billy asked, taking a few steps towards the door, and Steve saw his expression change when it fell on the blowtorch, and the metal rods lying next to it, and the cans of coke, and the flasks of hydrochloric acid. “Oh _ shit,  _ no,” he whispered, his eyes going wet. “Oh fuck, please. Lemme go, just—just lemme go—”

“Oh shit, _ no,”  _ Steve hissed, grabbing him around the waist as he tried to _ yell.  _ He covered Billy’s mouth, shoving him back against the side of the broken cabinet, and Billy pushed at him, but his whole body was shaking, and his arms had no strength to them. He made a noise in his throat that was almost a whine. “You’re safe,” Steve whispered. “I’m not gonna hurt you, you’re safe, I would never—”

Billy tried to jerk away, and his tears spilled down his cheeks. He didn’t struggle for very long, and once he bowed his head, Steve whispered, “Stay quiet, and I’ll move my hand.”

He nodded, swallowing. When Steve moved his hand, Billy bit his lips together, and Steve stepped back slowly—then had to tackle Billy again as he broke for the door. They hit the ground _ hard,  _ scuffling, but Billy was just trying to scramble _ away,  _ so he wasn’t hard to pin. 

“Please don’t do this to me,” Billy whispered shakily, against the linoleum. “Please, _ fuck,  _ Harrington, jesus— _ please  _ don’t fucking _ burn me—” _

Steve held him tighter, scrambling to cover his mouth, and tried a different truth. “Ssh, ssh! There are people out there with guns,” he hissed. “I’m trying to keep you in here. I’m not gonna hurt you, I’m trying to—it’s _ safe in here,  _ Hargrove—”

Billy nodded, scrambling away again, and shielding his head with his banged-up arms. Steve let him go, grimacing, but this time Billy just scooted up against the cabinets, ridiculous-looking, naked from the waist down. 

“You should go back over by the desk, Hargrove,” Steve whispered. “There’s broken glass over here.”

“Fuck you,” Billy hissed. “The fuck do you _ want?  _ Why didn’t you _ say  _ anything?! Why the fuck would you—”

“I’m just keeping you in here where it’s safe,” Steve whispered back, the guilt in his stomach spreading roots as he looked back at Billy’s red-rimmed eyes, and remembered how uncertain he’d sounded, offering more sex.

“...fuck you,” Billy whispered again, getting to his feet and stalking over to sit on the floor by the desk. “How long are you keeping me here?”

Steve, who had been wondering the same thing, grimaced. “Until it’s safe to leave,” he said, and Billy laughed, burying his head in his hands. 

“...the hell do you mean _ people with guns,”  _ he hissed, as Steve went to the wall of windows, eyeing the hedge outside, and wondering whether they could break a pane of glass, and make it to their cars. Whether Billy would even _ run,  _ or whether he’d argue, and then Steve would look up to find them surrounded, just like in the junkyard, but with no Sheriff Hopper and Mrs. Byers coming to help.

“People with guns,” Steve repeated, shrugging. 

“Maybe it was the _ police,”  _ Billy shot back, and Steve snorted, backing away from the window. 

“Nope,” he sighed, suddenly remembering the sinister warnings he’d been given if he tried to help anyone else avoid this _ exact situation.  _

“The fuck would anyone try to rob a _ school,”  _ Billy yelled at the ceiling, and Steve ran over, crouching next to him. 

“Sssh,” he whispered, reaching to cover Billy’s mouth, then jerking his hand back as Billy flinched away. “They’re not trying to rob the school.”

“The fuck is going _ on,  _ Harrington,” Billy hissed, shoving him back, his eyes brimming with tears again. “What’s so _ fucking important  _ you’d let me…”

“Shush,” Steve shot back, as the two tables in front of the door they’d come in screeched across the floor, and the weird-as-shit _ noise  _ the demodogs made whinnied into the room. He ran over and shoved back, shoving the door shut with his whole weight, and yelled, _ “Billy,  _ throw the acid at them!”

Billy _ stared  _ at him, and the door, hugging his knees, and something _ else  _ shoved against the door, forcing Steve back across the floor with a _ squeeeeak  _ of his shoes. He hissed _ “Shit, fuck, damn it—”  _ and then Billy was there, his naked ass right at Steve’s eye-level, and there was a _ crash  _ and a terrible hissing, screaming noise, and some thuds, and Steve shoved the door closed.

“Wha—” Billy began, shakily, but Steve grabbed him around the mouth again and pulled him silently back into the room, watching both doors, and the windows. 

“Sshhh,” he breathed in Billy’s ear, and Billy nodded, shaking against him. They listened for long minutes. “Are you all right,” Steve said under his breath, clenching his hands tighter in Billy’s shirt, and Billy snorted softly.

“It didn’t make it inside,” he breathed, almost inaudibly. “What about _ you?” _

“God,” Steve whispered, hugging him. 

A test tube crashed off the table at the other door, and Billy ran and yanked his shoes on, still pantsless, before clambering up and _ blowtorching  _ through the crack while Steve held the line, his shoulder braced against the juddering table. Billy had to lean out, and the blowtorch fell outside the room, but Steve yanked him back as more screaming started. 

They slammed the door.

Billy must have gotten a better look in the light of the blowtorch, because he stared blankly at the dim hallway through the glass even as Steve yanked him around and into a kiss. 

“...why are you kissing me,” he whispered, once Steve pulled away, and Steve thought about it, listening, and trembling with adrenaline. 

“I wanted to,” Steve whispered back.

_ “What are those things,”  _ Billy whispered again, just as crashing noises came from _ both doors at once,  _ and Steve handed him the other flask of hydrochloric acid, and ran to tip the table so its top blocked the other door. One scraped through, and he beat it over the head with a stool. 

“How many _ are  _ there,” Billy yelled, throwing his shoulder against the door, and Steve shouted back _ No idea  _ because it wasn’t like they could actually get louder than the shrieking, scrabbling demodogs. 

When everything went silent again, they both wandered back to the clear space where they’d fucked, shaky and panting for different reasons this time. “Did we win,” Billy asked, but he was watching the doors like he knew the answer, and Steve slid an arm around him and pulled him close. 

“Sorry,” Steve whispered. “I tried to get you out of the school, but there was one between us and the parking lot.”

_ “That’s  _ what was in the _ hallway?!”  _ Billy hissed back, wide-eyed, and Steve bit his lips, raising his eyebrows. “Holy shit,” Billy breathed.

“They’re why I had the bat that night,” Steve offered, grimacing.

“...the night I…”

“When you beat my head in,” Steve said dryly, and Billy twitched. “I’d just killed one when you pulled up. We hid it in the fridge.”

“You what,” Billy said flatly. “What _ are  _ they?!”

Steve had never, he realized, had to explain the demodogs or the Upside-Down before. They’d been explained _ to  _ him, and he tried to remember what Nancy had said. “Ssssh,” he whispered, and Billy’s head jerked in a nod. “They, um,” Steve started, then let his head bow to breathe against Billy’s hair. “The, uh, Hawkins Lab? They...found...them,” he finished lamely. “They, um, they get loose...sometimes.”

“...so you told me there were people with guns,” Billy said flatly.

“No, no, there were, there--there probably still are,” Steve sighed. “They come out to shoot the demon dogs. Demodogs. They’ll, uh, they’ll probably shoot you too, if you’re in the way.”

“What the fuck is this place,” Billy breathed, and Steve laughed, sighing again. “...so you fucked me to keep me quiet,” Billy grated out, “—because you figured I wouldn’t believe you about the—demo...dogs.”

It was hard to say he’d wanted to, somehow, harder than it had been for just a kiss, hard to admit he’d pushed _ Billy Hargove  _ down on the ground, wanting to feel every sound he made, and taste his skin. “...I wanted to,” Steve forced out. 

“Holy _ shit,”  _ Billy breathed, staring at him. “Tommy, that _ fuckhead,  _ he didn’t tell me. You two—you fucked around? Holy _ shit,  _ King of Hawkins High, queer as a three-dollar bill—”

“No,” Steve cut him off, and bit his lips together. “N-no, we never—maybe he _ wanted  _ to,” he said, thinking of Tommy’s weird jealousy, “—but uh, he never—he never said anything. Just—you.”

Billy went very still, then laughed again, shaking his head. “...holy shit.” He bucked his hips against Steve’s, and his hard cock rubbed against Steve’s jeans. “You wanna fuck me again after all?”

“...they’re probably not gone,” Steve reminded him, and Billy laughed. He looked tired, and rumpled, and his hair was sweaty, but he was smiling more genuinely than Steve had ever seen him.

“Hell of a way to die,” he whispered, grinning.

“...yeah, okay,” Steve whispered back, and kissed up his neck, wet, open-mouthed kisses that made Billy laugh disbelievingly against his shoulder. 

“I got another condom in my jeans,” Billy whispered, and Steve patted his own down, whipping out the little packet, and yanking on it with his teeth. Billy grabbed it, dropped to his knees, and yanked it open, pushing the condom between his lips, and unzipping Steve’s jeans. 

He pushed them down around Steve’s hips, stretched Steve’s tighty-whities down over his hard-on, and leaned in, sliding his hands around to squeeze at Steve’s ass, and rolling the condom up Steve’s dick with his lips and tongue. 

Steve bit back a moan, but _ behaved  _ himself this time, keeping his hips still even as Billy struggled to breathe around him, forcing Steve’s cock down the tight heat of his throat. “God, you’re good,” Steve whispered, stroking his hair _ gently,  _ and Billy moaned, pulling off, and clearing his throat, coughing. 

“How you want me?” he asked, leaning his face against Steve’s thigh. 

“How d’you want it?” Steve asked, crouching, and lifting Billy’s chin for a slow, latex-y kiss. 

“Mmn,” Billy mumbled, wrapping his arms around Steve’s neck and head, and Steve grinned into the kiss, his cheeks warming at having anybody so eager to kiss him. “I don’t give a shit,” Billy breathed, and Steve considered. 

“...why don’t you put your pants mostly back on, and your shoes,” Steve whispered, and Billy rolled his eyes, groaning. “I can--I mean,” Steve stopped, his face flushing, and lowered his voice. “I can still fuck you on your hands and knees, and--and if something crashes through the door, you aren’t _ naked—” _

“Fine,” Billy said, smirking, and stood up, making sure to wave his ass at Steve’s eye-level as he yanked his jeans on. When he got his clothes mostly on, he dropped to hands and knees, looking behind him coyly, and Steve laughed, grabbing the lotion and slicking himself up. He pumped some _ more  _ lotion in his hand this time, promising himself he wouldn’t leave Billy to _ get himself off on the floor  _ this time, like the shittiest sex partner alive.

It was easier, the second go-around. Steve let Billy push himself back onto Steve’s dick, waiting while he paused a few times, taking shaky breaths. Billy wasn’t as tight, and he never went so tense, this time, that Steve thought he must be in pain. It was just as good, and Steve tried to go slow and not just—buck his hips wildly, like he had the first time. He let Billy control it, and took shuddery breaths against Billy’s sweaty neck and into his hair.

Once their whole bodies were pressed together, Steve kissed the crook of Billy’s neck, biting him gently, and Billy bit back a moan. Steve slid his arm around and stroked the lotion up Billy’s cock, and Billy yelped, thudding to the floor as his elbows gave out. Steve laughed smugly, working Billy from the outside and the inside, and listening as he made soft noises in his throat. 

“...jesus,” Billy whispered, fully Jell-O between Steve’s hand and his cock. 

Steve kissed down his spine, fucking him in a slow rolling motion, when the windows burst inward, and he had to yank Billy backwards and upright, and tuck him back into his jeans as three demodogs stalked towards them. 

One of them was gushing blood from the broken glass, and the one that rushed Steve slipped in it, scrabbling on its side to right itself. Steve grabbed a metal stool, dick swinging, and swung the stool to connect with the thing’s tooth-flower head, three times, four times, and it stopped moving. 

Billy was yelling behind him, and Steve spun to see him scrambling backwards over the broken glass, his jeans still around his thighs, smacking the thing with the metal rod, and Steve slammed the stool down on its spine, then twice more for good measure, and once at the base of its skull. 

The air from the windows was much cooler, and Steve tried to pant _ quietly,  _ listening in the darkness.

Billy yelled and chucked a can of coke behind Steve, and Steve turned to see the bleeding one lurching towards them. It opened its head, shrieking its awful feedbacky noises like it was trying to shatter their eardrums, and Billy ran to flank it, slamming the rod point-first into the gushing wound. 

It wailed, jerking its mouth towards him, but Steve slammed its head away with the stool. He nudged it with his foot, then kicked it. Billy kicked the others, and they both rained down a few more blows, just in case. 

“Jesus fuck,” Billy whispered, staggering, and Steve reached out and pulled him well back from the window. “The hell are those people with guns doing?! Shoot these fuckers,” he panted, and Steve snorted a laugh. 

“...you wanna try again,” he asked, smirking, and Billy started laughing, silently, shaking his head.

“...gonna bite my dick off,” he panted.

He let Steve pull him up on one of the tables closer to the doors, away from the wall of windows, and curled against him, his face buried against Steve’s shoulder. Steve held him, his heart still pounding, feeling like an animatronic at Disney World as his head surveyed the door they’d come in, and the windows, and the bodies, and the other door, over and over. 

Billy breathed against his chest, heavy and warm, and Steve glanced down to see Billy’s jeans straining over his hard cock again.

Steve’s dick twitched. “...I can take care of that for you,” he offered, glancing around his circuit again.

“Lemme blow you,” Billy said, loud in the silence, and then turned his face harder into Steve’s shoulder, where Steve could feel more than hear him groan. 

“I wanna keep watch,” Steve told him, biting back a snicker, but he slid his hand down to run his knuckles up and down the bulge in Billy’s jeans, and Billy scooted closer, pulling his knee up. 

“...why the fuck do monsters turn you on,” he whispered, and Steve snorted, tugging at Billy’s fly. 

“They _ don’t,”  _ he hissed, jerking the zipper down, and sliding his hand in Billy’s jeans. Billy hissed, squirming closer so the table gave a loud creak, and they both froze for long minutes.

“Fuck,” Billy groaned into Steve’s shoulder, and Steve snorted a laugh, holding the elastic of Billy’s underwear out with the back of his hand as he rubbed his palm over Billy’s cock. _ “Jesus,”  _ Billy whispered, his hips jerking as his hands clenched in Steve’s shirt. “...monsterfucker,” he added, breathily, in Steve’s ear, and Steve squeezed hard, his eyes narrowing, so Billy yelped.

“Shut up,” Steve hissed back, trying not to laugh, and Billy snickered into his shoulder, his breaths shortening into pants as Steve stroked him faster, then yanked his hand out to lick.

“Jesus _ god,”  _ Billy said under his breath, bucking his hips as Steve slid his hand back down. He _ bit  _ some of Steve’s shirt, muffling soft noises as he tried to hold still, his breath hot where Steve’s shirt grew wet against his chest. He came with a soft grunt, going still, then slowly relaxing, and Steve grimaced at his hand, then wiped it on Billy’s jeans. Billy laughed softly against Steve’s neck, and pressed a relaxed, sloppy kiss there, and Steve squeezed him tighter.

Billy was asleep when the sirens finally showed up. “Police are here,” he whispered. “Is that...good? The sirens gonna draw them all out?”

“The sheriff knows,” Steve told him, groaning sleepily into Billy’s shoulder. “He’ll have...shotgun.”

“Wish we had shotgun,” Billy said drily, and Steve snorted, leaning in closer to kiss him. Billy held perfectly still, then sighed. 

When Hopper banged on the door, blinding them both with his flashlight, they drug the tables out of the way. He clapped them both on the shoulder, told Steve he was a good kid for taking care of Billy, and turned to look at the broken bodies under the window. Steve cleared his throat, glancing at the jizz drying on their shirts, and exchanging a glance with Billy. They bit back grins, looking away.

Hopper sent Billy and Steve off to the parking lot with two nervous patrolmen who jumped and pointed their pistols at every shadow. “We’re gonna get shot,” Billy whispered, snickering, and Steve lost it too, squeezing his shoulders. 

“You wanna go to Denny’s,” Steve whispered back, and Billy blinked at him. “My treat,” Steve tried. “I mean, I know it’s not fancy, but I think it’s after two in the morning. I think I got some clean gym shirts in my car.”

“...sure,” Billy said, shrugging, and Steve grinned. “...should probably stay out anyway,” Billy said, stretching. “‘F’I come in now I’ll just piss everybody off.”

“Oh,” Steve blinked, running his fingers along Billy’s forearm, on the way to grabbing his hand. He didn’t know how to ask about the bruises. “Um, we can sneak in to my room.”

“...what? I can...I can sleep in my car,” Billy said, slowing down to frown at him.

“Tomorrow’s Saturday,” Steve pointed out, and Billy nodded, raising his eyebrows. “Uh,” Steve tried. “Um, I know Denny’s isn’t...I could take you to a movie.”

“...what,” Billy asked again, his mouth quirking as his eyes lingered on his hand in Steve’s.

“Thought we could sleep in tomorrow. I could...finish what I started?” Steve asked, uncertainly, as Billy raised his head to stare at him.

He snorted, shaking his head. “...you can just say you want a fuck. Don’t be squeamish, King Harrington!”

Steve bit his lips together, keeping an eye out for any demodogs that somehow escaped the eyes of the line of cop cars. “No, that’s not—” he blew air through his cheeks, swinging their linked hands. “I _ like  _ you.”

“You fucking _ don’t,”  _ Billy shot back, glaring over, offended, and Steve started snickering again.

“I like you,” he said again, nodding firmly, and Billy’s mouth dropped open a little, but he just started walking faster to his car. “Wait, wait,” Steve jogged along. Billy glared at him, squeezing his hand _ hard,  _ and Steve squeezed back, like they were assholes competing in Handshake Crush. “I want you,” Steve told him, a little out of breath after the day they’d had, and Billy dragging him across the parking lot at a run. “I _ like  _ you. Let’s go out.”

“I’m _ queer,”  _ Billy hissed at him, stopping so suddenly their hands yanked Steve’s arm half out of its socket.

“Yeah, you wouldn’t probably want to, otherwise,” Steve said, thinking about it, and Billy drew an angry breath through his nose, then stepped forward and kissed Steve right there in the parking lot, and Steve kissed him back, grabbing his other hand, too. 

“...that was supposed to make you realize you were being an idiot,” Billy told him, panting, and licking his lips.

“I already was one,” Steve admitted, grinning, and Billy groaned, his cheeks darkening. Steve ducked his head, trying to catch Billy’s eye. “Date me?”

“Jesus,” Billy whispered, rubbing his face. “You’re gonna wake up tomorrow and realize we both _ hallucinated  _ this whole day.”

“Mmm,” Steve hummed, waiting.

“Fuck yes,” Billy spat. “Of course it’s a goddamn _ yes,  _ jesus _ fucking—” _

Steve leaned in and covered Billy’s mouth with his own, laughing.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

>  **Thank you so much for wandering in! Lemme know if you liked my story--I lovelovelove hearing from people! Kudos! Short comments! Long comments! Questions! Constructive criticism! Comments as extra kudos! Thanks so, so much! XD** (I try to reply to each one, but if you don't want a response to your comment then please say "No reply please" or "Whisper" so I'll know not to reply.)
> 
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